


yearning

by octopodian



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, but of course they dont know its mutual, compliant with canon up to 131, martin is sad and jon is sad but yknow? thats just how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 14:12:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18235973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopodian/pseuds/octopodian
Summary: He expects a patronizing pitying smile laced with satisfaction, but instead, Peter cocks his head to the side, making a thoughtful noise. “So, he’s the one finding you? Initiating the interactions?”“Y-yes? What does that have to-"“Well! Sounds like it’s just a... misunderstanding. No need to worry, Martin, I’ll go have a talk with him.” He smiles, teeth white as sun-bleached bone, and that, that simple cheery statement, scares Martin more than any monster ever has.





	yearning

So, this was his life now. Endless spreadsheets and schedules. Numbers instead of people. This was how it was going to be.

He’d be angry (and he is, oh, he _is_ ) but he chose this. And to be honest, he’s always found working with numbers to be calming, and losing himself in mindless routine is more pleasant than the alternatives.

He barely picks up the faint static-y whine before Lukas is sitting in the chair across from him, blue eyes stony and impassive. He’s wearing a long coat, far too thick for the London climate, his grey hair wild and windswept.

“Martin,” Peter says, clicking his tongue, not even bothering to say hello, “I don’t know if I was clear the first time. You’ve really got to stop talking to Jon.”

“I’m trying,” Martin says calmly, feeling a twist in his chest when he realizes he isn’t lying. He was also trying to process all the funding requests from the various departments, and the interruption wasn't exactly helping. He saves his progress and turns back to Peter.

“Then why does it keep happening? I’m not mad, I just want to know why, Martin.” His voice drips like honey and Martin _hates_ it.

“I don’t know.” Peter stares coldly. He continues. “He keeps finding me, and talking about how he just knows where I am and saying stuff-!” Martin quickly shuts up before that train of thought (he’d said he missed him, for Christ’s sake, _Jon,_ missing _him_ ) can get any further. “It’s not my fault.”

He expects a patronizing pitying smile laced with satisfaction, but instead, Peter cocks his head to the side, making a thoughtful noise. “So, he’s the one finding you? Initiating the interactions?”

“Y-yes? What does that have to-”

“Well! Sounds like it’s just a... misunderstanding. No need to worry, Martin, I’ll go have a talk with him.” He smiles, teeth white as sun-bleached bone, and that, that simple cheery statement, scares Martin more than any monster ever has.

“O-oh, that’s... fine! I’m sure he’ll stop, really-”

“No, no, Martin, it’s no trouble, really! Be back in a jiffy!”

Martin tries to argue, but Lukas is already gone, with nothing indicating he was ever there except the faint smell of brine.

 

-

 

“Statement ends.” By now Jon is used to the odd rush that Knowing things gives him: he waits a minute for it to subside, and slowly takes note of the physical things he’d forgotten about while recording. His back hurts, for one. His eyes sting, and he blinks a few times to clear his vision. There’s a statement, a few rings from when he’d forgotten to use a coaster, and- a hand leaning on his desk. He jumps about a foot in the air.

Lukas.

“Hey there, Jon!”

“Mr. Lukas himself. To what do I owe the honor? You aren’t thinking of firing me, I hope?”

That gets a laugh out of the sailor. “Really, Jon, must everything be so gloomy? I just want to have a chat.”

“What are you doing with him? With Martin?”

“Nothing too untoward, I assure you! He’s merely working as my assistant. Surely Basira has told you as much.”

“What is he assisting you with?” Jon says, forcing the words to pulse with compulsion.

“Really, Jon, is that necessary? To answer your question, though, it’s mostly admin! And a few personal errands, so to speak. He’s been doing great, don’t you worry. This isn’t about him, Jon, it’s about you.” He isn’t laughing anymore. The room suddenly feels very cold.

“...excuse me?”

“It turns out I underestimated your... curiosity! And your... investment in Mr. Blackwood. All my fault, I’m afraid, for trusting Elias of all people,” he chuckles. “I’m going to have to ask you, as a professional courtesy, to _never speak to him again._ ”

Jon’s mouth hangs open for a moment before he closes it and sets his jaw. “No.”

“Jon, I’m afraid I wasn’t really giving you a choice.”

“No,” Jon says, and it’s stronger this time. “He was always there for me, I-I’m not going to abandon him now. Especially not to the likes of you.”

“He doesn’t want to see you, Jon! He told you to leave him alone. Surely even you can tell when you aren’t wanted.”

“That- I-I- It doesn’t-”

“Jon,” Peter says, similar to the tone he’d use for a dog tearing up the marigolds, “he’s made his choice.”

“It’s a stupid choice.”

“Maybe. But he’s doing it for you, so I’m afraid no amount of begging on your part is going to make a difference.”

“Sorry, _for_ me?”

“He told you, didn’t he?” No response. Something very hungry lights up in Peter’s eyes. “He gives up his whole life to protect you, and you don’t even notice. My, my. Elias was right.”

“Right about what?” And Jon doesn’t think about it, but the Compulsion is flowing through his veins and dripping off his tongue like ichor.

Peter catches, for a moment, before his eyes return to their impassive gray-blue. “Martin cares, Jon. He cares quite a lot, actually. And especially, he cares about you, more than anything else in the world. Elias merely gave me the heads up. Saved me the trouble of working it out myself.”

“Why is he working with you? Why does he know that?”

“One question at a time, Archivist.” Peter sneers. “Elias... well, he’s not exactly thrilled about it either, but he’s doing what he has to. If he’s to groom you into the Archivist he desires, he can’t have you feeling sentimental. If I’m to groom Martin into the avatar I need, I need him to be completely isolated. So! Two birds, one stone. You lose your final grasp on humanity, and Martin becomes truly alone. Both of our Gods win."

Jon feels like his head is imploding. “Fuck you.”

If anything, that makes Peter even happier. He leans in like a hungry wolf, teeth bared and eyes wide. “All it took was a few comments saying you’d never wake up again, that he should protect the world for your sake, protect you, and he was willing to do anything. He is delightfully easy. Stubborn, yes: I mean, I had to spend months searching for Dekker's statements to get him to cooperate, and he’s well aware he’s being manipulated, but that hardly makes a difference. His dedication is truly unwavering. After all, Jon: it’s better this way.”

Jon sits there numbly.

“Well. Good talk, Jon! Let’s do this again sometime.”

Jon takes three deep breaths. Then he opens his desk drawer and takes out the curved bone. 

He doesn’t have any time to lose. He needs to do this _now._

G-d, he just hopes he isn’t too late.

**Author's Note:**

> jonathan sims local idiot. local fool. local absolute clown.


End file.
